


Down With The Sickness

by ruff_ethereal



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, F/F, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 01:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11392215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruff_ethereal/pseuds/ruff_ethereal
Summary: Allura is sick from a Galra bioweapon, and is forced to constantly shift and change her form to keep it from taking root. She wants Pidge to stay with her and keep her company than try and search for a cure, but Altean tradition makes it difficult.





	Down With The Sickness

“Oh, hello Pidge!” Allura said—or rather, Pidge _assumed_ she said, as she couldn’t understand whatever language her vocal chords were trying to produce, let alone what species they normally belonged to.

“Allura’s very happy to see you, Pidge!” Coran translated, his voice distorted somewhat by his hazmat suit’s speakers. “Well, that or she’s hoping that you’ve brought food, Rohgador culture equated happiness and sustenance as one and the same.”

“Good to see you too, Allura,” Pidge said as she hauled in a hermetically-sealed box. “Ready to try the latest batch of cures?” she said as she fumbled with the locks, ill-fitting gloves trying to get a grip.

Allura frowned for a moment—it was hard to tell, with her mouth being a ring lined with teeth for the moment—before she seemed to smile, and nodded.

Pidge nodded as she activated her suit’s bio-scanners. “Alright, let’s start,” she said as she pulled out the first syringe of the day.

Allura held out her arm—or in this case, one of the larger ones—Coran held it down, and located wherever her veins were. Pidge held her hand—or what she assumed to be what you could call a “hand” for the species she was mimicing—gave her a reassuring squeeze and a smile, before in the needle went.

They all knew that Allura had felt pain before, _much_ worse than the prick of a hypodermic needle designed to painlessly and seamlessly bypass all known epidermis or exoskeletons in most species of the galaxy, but there seemed to be something universal about getting an injection that was forever indescribably _awful._

The contents of syringes, flasks, and misters were emptied; needles and other injection-mechanisms self-destructed after use; and Pidge got a live, if unwilling demonstration of the limits and the possibilities of the Altean species’ ability to shape-shift and modify their very biological structure at will and in seconds.

There weren’t any drastic negative reactions like their initial, panicked attempts at stopping the Galra’s bio-weapon, but it seemed like they weren’t making any progress, either.

Pidge said a little prayer as she pulled out the very last cure for this batch; she and humanity at large had long lost the need for religion, but damned if impossible odds and dire constraints couldn’t put them back on their knees and pleading to higher powers.

“You ready?” Pidge asked.

Allura made a noise, the mandibles her mouth had turned into clacking in a rising tone.

“She says ‘Yes!’” Coran said as he located another vein, hidden underneath a layer of emulated exoskeleton plates.

Pidge grabbed her wrist this time—she didn’t like the sharp blades with gleaming points Allura’s fingers had turned into, and neither did Allura—before she put the last needle in.

She emptied the contents and extracted it, and all of them waited.

Allura shuddered, Pidge’s scanner started getting flooded with new data. For a moment, the pseudo exoskeleton morphed back into smooth skin, her mandibles shifted back into a humanoid mouth. They all started to smile, up until Allura’s teeth suddenly morphed into sharp, needle-point teeth, and her skin took a smooth, slippery quality like an aquatic mammal.

She groaned, and made a displeased gurgle.

“Looks like none of the cures worked… again...” Pidge muttered sadly as she disposed of the injector with the rest.

“Unfortunately...” Coran said, before he smiled. “Cheer up, though, Pidge—I’m sure the Blades will come back to us with the details on that bioweapon soon enough. Maybe you can take a break from this venture into xenobiological pharmacology?”

Allura made a bubbling noise that Pidge supposed was “reassuring.”

Pidge shook her head. “I’m still going to try and search for a cure,” she said as she sealed the box again. “It would be best for all of us if we can get Allura back on her feet and functional ASAP.”

“Would you like to stay here and observe a little longer, Pidge?” Coran asked. “Maybe one of your cures is just delayed; some Altean cures always needed some time to adapt to whatever biology they were mimicking at the moment before they really kick in.”

Pidge shook her head as she put the box back under her shoulder. “No thanks; either way, that time is better spent doing more research. And who knows? This might pave the way for vaccines for any future variants or disease we might contract.”

Pidge leaned in hugged Allura, awkward for the bulky and ill-fitting hazmat suit, and the fact that Allura now had feathered, reverse-jointed wings for arms, with claws like a thumb and finger at the ends.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t cure you, Allura,” Pidge said.

Allura made a soft cooing noise.

Pidge smiled. “I promise, I’ll work even harder for this next batch.”

Allura’s feathers rose as she made a distressed noise, but Pidge had already scampered off to the decontamination pod by her door, and the air-tight and sound-proof doors were already shutting behind her. Her avian-eyes narrowed as the ring of feathers around her neck bristled.

“My apologies, your highness, I suppose I was being a little _too_ subtle...” Coran said.

Allura sighed, and gave him an apologetic look. She sang a short bird song, her voice croaking at the end as the feathers receded and a bulbous sac started to form at the base of her throat.

Coran straightened himself up and saluted. “With haste, your majesty!” he said, before he went off to the comm-unit in Allura’s room, and started calling up the other Paladins, their faces popping in front of the screen one by one.

Whatever they were doing before—napping, cooking, or training—their expressions were serious and alert in moments.

“Paladins!” Coran began. “I have a _very_ important mission for all of you! The stakes may not be as dire as they usually are, but I expect you all to treat it with the same drive and determination that you usually do!”

“We’re listening,” Shiro said, the others nodding in agreement.

“I need you all to convince Pidge to stay here and keep Allura company!” Coran said. “Allura’s been missing her _dearly_ ever since this whole business with bioweapons started, and she’s so caught up in her trying to make a cure that she doesn’t seem to notice anything else than if her efforts worked or not.”

Lance blinked, before he laughed. “Wait, that’s it?”

Coran scowled. “Yes, that’s it! And if I may ask, what is so funny?”

“That you made this sound like it was a such a huge deal! Did Pidge shut off her messenger, and now you need one of us to go to her room and tell her to move into Allura’s for a while?”

“ _Absolutely not!”_ Coran snapped. He took a calming breath. “Forgive me, sometimes I forget that you’re not nearly as steeped in and knowledgeable about Altean culture as the previous Paladins have...”

“What aren’t we getting here, anyway?” Keith asked.

“Well, you are all aware of how Allura took to courting Pidge, yes?”

“Well, duh? It’s pretty hard to forget considering we had to see it for _months!”_ Lance said. “Geeze, it was like watching the universe’s cruelest, saddest, most rage-inducing series about unrequited love! I can’t emphasize how _happy_ I was when Pidge finally came around.”

The other Paladins nodded in sympathy.

“Yes, stressful and drawn out as it was, it was simply Allura following our species’ tradition for the proper manner of courting a non-Altean lover.”

“So what, the entire Altean species were a bunch of masochists in case they had the hots for an alien?” Lance asked.

“Not quite, though I can see why you might assume that!” Coran said. “Back in the glory days of the Altean empire, it was not unusual for xenomorphs to fall in love with our people, oftentimes for the wrong reasons, be they superficial, political, or for our famed ‘exotic’ qualities.

“I myself had attracted quite the number of interested parties in my younger years, but that’s a story for another time.

“Anyway, whenever one of our kind was truly, legitimately interested in someone, the direct approach was frowned upon; we were such masters of manipulation, persuasion, and adaptation, we wouldn’t even realize when we had outright stolen someone’s heart, rather than gotten them to reciprocate our feelings genuinely and on their own volition.

“So with inter-species romance, we follow the same philosophy as our diplomacy: with grace, finesse, and a gentle hand.

“To use a metaphor, it’s kind of like the difference between taming an Altean Hoowoo by luring it with song and food, waiting for it to come down, and persuading it to your side with the promises of more food, shelter, and petting, VS firing yourself out of a cannon, snatching it out of mid-air, and wrestling it into submission before you latch a collar ‘round its neck and force it into a cage.

“Yes, it may be a lot of effort and time, and it might not work, but we find it the preferable alternative to questioning if your lover truly is in love with you, or you just happened to bewitch them.”

The Paladins all nodded. “So what do we have to do?” Hunk asked.

Coran smiled. “Fortunately for all of you, I already have a plan all drawn up in my mind…!”

* * *

Pidge sat cross-legged on her bed, her computer in her lap and her eyes glued to the screen as she constructed models; researched medical techniques, bio-weapons, and counter-measures to outbreaks and deployments; and hypothesized on possible cures, at best, things that would slow down the bio-weapon, realistically, and something that would make Allura more comfortable until the Blade of Marmora could get back to them, at the very worst.

She was so focused she didn’t even notice the door opening or Shiro coming in, up until he gently tapped her on the shoulder.

Pidge reflexively looked up, her eyes squinting and her features contorting in confusion as she saw little phantoms of molecular structures, experiment read-outs, and model-construction user interfaces over Shiro’s smiling face.

“Still working on a cure, Pidge?” Shiro asked.

Pidge nodded. “Yeah… it’s tough going, seeing as we can’t use the cryopods, and don’t have any proper medical supplies, or manufacturing equipment here,” she said as she took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Seems the Alteans always thought they could just get some more from their allies or a colony somewhere…”

She sighed as she put her glasses back on. “This’d be so much easier if all the Galra didn’t control basically all the sources for proper medical supplies.”

“That didn’t really stop me and the other prisoners from making our own, though,” Shiro said.

Pidge paused. “How did you handle medical care in the arena, if you don’t mind?” she asked, scooting over and making room for Shiro.

“If you were a ‘Champion’ like I was, the Galra did everything in their power to make sure that you could fight another round, and if you died, it wouldn’t be in bed from food poisoning, sickness, or aging,” Shiro said as he sat down. “That included constant vaccination, top-notch surgery and cutting-edge drugs, plus your own dedicated medical staff and drones.”

“And if things got really bad...” he raised his prosthetic arm.

Pidge nodded. “And if you weren’t?”

Shiro got a far-off look in his eyes. “You made do. ‘Necessity is the mother of invention,’ and when you want to live another day, or keep someone else alive, you did everything you could...”

He went on to tell Pidge about how the prisoners manufactured their own drugs and medical supplies from the scraps of the Galra’s equipment, daring thefts, and the occasional care package from the Blades of Marmora. How the doctors and the healers among them worked tirelessly, sharing their knowledge with others, and oftentimes being forced to learn how to cure alien biology on the spot. The creative ways that they took advantage of the unique properties of some species, like producing and extracting coagulants and anti-bacterial agents from the most unexpected, and oftentimes disgusting of places, like the sanitized environment of the latrines.

Pidge listened intently and made notes, adding more and more to list of research topics and avenues to explore with notes, and asking questions about how effective a cure was, or the other applications they could find for certain compounds and concoctions that couldn’t heal but were useful still.

“… It was far from the care they needed, but in dire constraints like ours, we couldn’t really afford to complain,” Shiro said. “Sometimes, however, we found that the best aid could give someone was to stay with them, talk and keep them company while they healed, till someone could follow through with help, or hoped that their natural immune system would be up to the task.

“And if they didn’t… at least they wouldn’t die alone.”

Pidge nodded. “Thanks for answering my question, Shiro, this was really insightful,” she said as she looked over the reams and reams of notes she had taken, before she started typing and clicking in a frenzy.

Shiro noticed, and frowned. “You know, me and the others were thinking of switching out for Coran some time, give him a break… want to take the first shift?”

“Nah,” Pidge said, “aside from the fact that it’s his job, he has a better understanding of Altean biology, and all of the species Allura can mimic; we’ll probably end up doing more harm than good if we have someone else taking care of her, in case Allura morphs into something particularly alien to us.”

“You sure about this?” Shiro asked. “Maybe it can give you two some time to hang out together, you’re always looking for that!”

“We can do that when she’s better—I doubt she’d enjoy it much when she’s forced to constantly shift forms, and we can’t do much with those clunky hazmat suits in the way,” Pidge said.

Shiro tried to make another argument, but it was clear that her eyes and her attention were firmly back on her research. He sighed, quietly got up, and made a note to go call Hunk...

* * *

Pidge staggered out of her room, her gait uneven and pained for the pins and needles in her legs. As she grabbed a wall and made her way to the kitchen, her mother’s voice echoed in her head: “You should really be more careful about how long you sit in front of that laptop of yours, Katie; one of these days, you might not be able to stand back up!”

She had long discovered that was just exaggeration on her mother’s part, but you’d think that the pain would have made her stop anyway.

If her suffering and hunger had a bright side, however, it that she happened upon Hunk whipping up something hot that smelled _amazing_ , too. She was planning on having a bowl of food goo while she waited for the circulation in her legs to normalize, but she was fast changing her mind.

“Hey Pidge!” Hunk said, waving with one hand as he stirred the contents of a pot with the other. “You hungry?”

“Heck yes I am!” Pidge said as she found a seat. “What are you making?”

“Chicken soup!” Hunk said. “Well, not actually ‘chicken,’ chicken soup like we’re used to back in the Sol system, but it’s protein based, has got all sorts of healthy herbs and vegetables for boosting immune systems and fighting sickness, and is positively _delicious_ , if I do say so myself!”

“Can I have some?” Pidge asked.

“Sure, it’ll be done in five minutes or so, but you mind waiting till I can get Allura’s bowl ready? I made this for her, to help with the bioweapon thing.”

Pidge paused. “Huh… boosting her immune system rather than directly attacking the pathogen?”

“Yep, though my priority is boosting her mood first and foremost! Allura’s been stuck in her room for so long, and that she can’t hang out with anyone else except Coran must _really_ suck.” Hunk paused. “Hey, you want to go have your soup in Allura’s room with her? I’m sure she’d appreciate having her girlfriend around!”

“I’d love to, but I can’t exactly open my hazmat suit while I’m in the quarantine zone, Hunk, and I don’t want to try and balance a bowl of scalding hot soup inside that thing,” Pidge said. “The construction isn’t nearly as flexible or advanced as the ones in our Paladin armour.”

Hunk smiled as he put the ladle down, and pulled out something from underneath the counter. “Lucky you I made this food bottle for Coran! It’s got a hermetic seal and insulation, is probably small enough to fit inside your suit, and a straw so you can drink your soup without risking spilling it all over yourself!”

“Huh… that’s pretty convenient.” Pidge said.

“Mhmm!” Hunk said. “So, you want your soup in this?”

“Depends, is there anything I might not want to suck through a straw and possibly choke on?”

“Nope! I made sure that all the ingredients were completely soluble, or ran it through the blender several times, in case Allura ends up with a mouth that doesn’t have teeth, or an esophagus that only takes liquids.”

He went on to describe the ingredients he had put in, harvested from the planets they had visited during down-time, or grown in the ship ever since they acquired a hydroponics system. Pidge didn’t pay the list much mind, until one name in particular jumped out to her.

“Wait!” Pidge cried. “What was that last one?”

“Uh, Bloodroot?” Hunk replied. “Don’t worry, it sounds gnarly, but it’s actually this _really_ awesome superfood that the natives used for treating vitamin deficiencies and some really serious sicknesses—still do, actually!”

“I know, Shiro mentioned it earlier!” Pidge said as she pulled out her digital “notepad.” “Where’d you get this? Do you have any more of it? Any chance I can use them for experiments?”

“Uh, it was when we were fighting that giant swamp Robeast that looked like a giant alligator; no, I used up all of it for the soup; and I suppose you can just go back there and harvest some more before we get out of range…?” Hunk replied.

Pidge wrote it all down, and jumped off her chair. “Thanks Hunk, tell the others I’m taking Green out for a grocery run!” she said as she ran off.

“Wait, Pidge!” Hunk cried. “What about your soup?!”

“I’ll come back for it before I leave!” Pidge called back. “Just put it in the bottle for me, please!”

Hunk watched her disappear, frowned, and quickly called up Lance and Keith.

* * *

Pidge was in Green’s hangar, suiting up and reviewing the specifics of her trip; it’d take a couple of hours of flying, and several more searching for and harvesting the Bloodroot, but it’d all be worth it, if the plant was nearly as effective and versatile as Shiro and most of her research had claimed it to be.

She shut off her suit’s wrist-computer, put on her helmet, and turned to her lion. “Get ready to go, Green! Just waiting on that soup from Hunk,” she said.

There was something that felt different about Green for a moment, but she decided it could wait until after she’d gotten some food for the trip. She headed back to the doors, and was surprised when they opened up before she even got close.

Keith held up the food bottle, now filled with soup. “Hey, Pidge,” he said as he tossed it over to her.

Pidge caught it, looked at the bottle, then at Keith. “Thanks. Is something up, Keith?” she asked.

“Yep, you’re staying here in the ship, while me and Lance go grocery shopping instead,” Keith said. “Shiro _and_ Allura’s orders, by the way.”

“Why, what happened?” Pidge asked.

“We need you here for something much more important,” Keith said as he stepped up to Pidge and put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, Pidge, everyone’s got their own way of dealing with being sick. You? It’s trying to find something that’ll kill the ever loving shit out of whatever’s making your body send out all the white blood cell patrols.”

“But Allura’s _not you_. What she really wants the most right now isn’t a cure that’ll help her body stop outsmarting the Galra’s bio-weapon by constantly changing the playing field—what she really wants is to have you around while she does.

“She’s been alone these past 10,000 years, Pidge, nothing but her mice and Coran for company, then she had us, the ragtag bunch of assholes that are coincidentally the Defenders of the Universe. Do you _really_ think she wants to go through all this by herself, without her girlfriend to make it suck just a little bit less?”

Pidge frowned. “… No, no she probably doesn’t.”

“Good. Glad that’s finally registered to your big brain. You know, Pidge, it won’t hurt to brush up on your people skills sometime, and you can start by staying with Allura while she needs you.” He smiled. “And on that note, you need any help?”

Pidge smiled back. “I could use some extra hands hauling my stuff to Allura’s room...”

* * *

The decontamination chamber in Allura’s room opened with a hiss, Pidge and Hunk ambling through the mists with their arms loaded with soup, the game console they bought from the Space Mall plus jury-rigged adapters, and her laptop.

“Hey Allura!” Pidge said as Coran came over to help them unload and set up their things. “I’m back, and I’m staying until you get better! Keith and Lance told me _everything.”_

Her mouth and her throat currently crystal-like structures, Allura made a series of distressed humming, sections of her “skin” lighting up in yellow and orange. Coran’s lips curled into a frown, but helping Hunk wire the game system to an outlet kept him from commenting.

Pidge climbed up onto Allura’s bed, and sat beside her. “I’m sorry it took Keith having to spell it out for me to figure it out, and I know you’re trying to follow proper Altean tradition which I’m sure is well-meaning and rooted in sense and experience, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t use these subtle hints, roundabout asking, and indirect tactics anymore.”

Pidge took Allura’s “hand” and held it up. “I had months to think it over, and spent a lot of hours laying awake at night doing just that; I _know_ that my feelings for you are 100% true, of my own volition, and not just because you’re a sexy, smart, and charming alien princess.”

Pidge smiled and gently butted her hazmat suit’s helmet against Allura’s head, her eyes locked with one pair of hers. “I love you, Allura.”

Allura seemed to swoon as she made all manner of delighted noises as her crystal-skin lit up in pinks and whites. She wrapped her limbs around Pidge and pulled her in close, humming in pleasure before she made a series of much more deliberate, structured sounds.

“She said ‘I love you too, Pidge.’” Coran said, smiling.

They fired up the game console, and Pidge and Allura settled in for a co-op adventure. And when Allura’s constantly shifting grasping appendages and the ever changing number and shape of digits she had, and the clunky gloves of the hazmat suit made it impossible for either of them to play properly, they settled down for a movie instead.

“Sorry we had to break tradition, Coran,” Hunk said as Coran escorted him back to the decontamination chamber.

“Oh, I’ll get over it,” Coran said, smiling. “Some traditions are meant to be broken, after all...”


End file.
